MUSINGS ON LIFE FROM BOTH SIDES OF THE TV SCREEN

There are 10 multiple choice questions here, each with a Tennessee connection.

The correct answers are at the bottom of the page.

Play fair.... don't look at the answers until you've answered all 10 questions.

Just like in school, you must get 7 correct to pass.

Here we go:

1) What place in Nashville features the largest bronze doors in the world?

A. War Memorial Auditorium

B. The Parthenon

C. Alan Jackson's home

D. The Ryman Auditorium

2) Which of the following rivers is the longest?

A. The Harpeth

B. Caney Fork

C. Tennessee River

D. Cumberland River

3) The Ku Klux Klan was formed in 1865 in which Tennessee city?

A. Murfreesboro

B. Tullahoma

C. Pulaski

D. Bruceton

4) One of the following celebrities DID NOT attend Nashville's Hume-Fogg High School. Which one?

A. Phil Harris

B. Dinah Shore

C. Delbert Mann (movie director)

D. Mel Torme

5) One of these music legends -- as far as I can determine -- NEVER recorded a song at Sun Studios in Memphis. Which one?

A. Rick Nelson

B. Roy Orbison

C. B.B. King

D. Ike Turner

E. Charlie Rich

F. Conway Twitty

6) Which one of these cities NEVER served as Tennessee's state capital?

A. Nashville

B. Kingston

C. Murfreesboro

D. Knoxville

E. Manchester

7) When Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin stepped on the moon, what were they wearing that was manufactured in Nashville?

A. gloves

B. helmets

C. socks

D. sunglasses

8) After the U.S. Postal Service issued a stamp honoring Tennessee's bicentennial celebration in 1996, what glaring mistake was discovered on the stamps?

A. the flag on the stamps was the wrong color

B. the flag was upside down and backwards

C. there was no glue on the stamps

D. the stamps were inadvertently priced one cent under the first class rate

9) What city lies at the exact geographical center of Tennessee?

A. Lebanon

B. Cookeville

C. Murfreesboro

D. Nolensville

10) In Fred Thompson's very first movie acting role, he portrayed what character?

A. the president

B. a senator

C. himself

D. a gangster

ANSWERS:

1) B. The Parthenon's doors are 24 feet high and 7 feet wide.

2) D. The Cumberland River is 678 miles long... just 26 miles longer than the Tennessee River.

3) C. The Klan was formed in Pulaski in 1865 by six Confederate veterans.

4) D. Mel Torme never lived in Nashville and obviously never attended Hume-Fogg though, coincidentally, he was known as "The Velvet Fog."

5) A. There's no indication that Rick Nelson ever recorded anything at Sun.

6) E. Manchester is the only one of those cities that never was the state capital... but, interestingly, Kingston was the state capital for only one day in 1807.

7) C. The socks worn by the astronauts as they stepped onto the moon in 1969 were manufactured by May Hosiery Mill on Chestnut Street in Nashville, which had a contract with NASA at the time.

8) B. The Tennessee Bicentennial stamps were backwards and upside down. And, get this... when someone from the Postal Service went to the governor's office to talk about the problem, they realized the flags inside the governor's office were also displayed upside down.

9) C. Murfreesboro is smack dab in the middle of every geographical line drawn border to border.

10) C. In 1977 Fred Thompson was Marie Ragghianti's attorney after she was fired from her job as Chairman of the Tennessee Parole Board for refusing to release convicted felons who had bribed aides to Governor Ray Blanton. In the mid-1980s, when the movie "Marie" was being made, the producers asked Thompson -- who had no acting experience -- if he'd like to play himself in the film. He agreed, and that led to all his other acting roles.

Master detective Dick Tracy first started using his famous 2-way wrist radio in 1946.

Goodness, that was before I was even b.....uhh, well, ok, it was before I was more than a very, very, very small child.

Such a device was simply unheard of back in the 1940s and 50s.
While looking at Dick Tracy comic books as a boy, and seeing that wrist radio, I clearly recall thinking.... "that's so far fetched, it could never happen."

It was the stuff of science fiction.... the stuff of a fertile imagination conjuring up images of things that were simply beyond human capability.

Fast forward to 2008.

A few weeks ago my wife and I decided it was time to upgrade our cellphones.
It was a decision we made reluctantly after hearing so many of our friends and family laughing and pointing fingers, saying things like, "Wow, do those antique cell phones still work?"
or, "Did you get those as a bonus with your 8-track player?"

We now have identical new phones, and while they're not exactly "2-way wrist phones" like Dick Tracy's... they would have made the old boy very proud.
(And by using the past tense there, I don't mean to imply that Dick Tracy is no longer with us. I like to think he's still using his 2-way wrist phone to check on shady looking characters cheating at shuffleboard in Gainesville, Florida.)

Anyhow these new phones are astounding.
Without even dialing, you can simply speak the name of a person you want to call -- and it will call them.

I couldn't wait for my wife Karen to try it.
I knew she'd be impressed.

I subscribe to Sirius, and I've never once -- ever -- listened to Howard Stern.

So, to me at least, that $80,000,000 is a Sirius waste of money.

But that's not been my argument with Sirius. And that's not the reason I'll most likely discontinue my subscription.

I admit to enjoying the news channels and NFL games on my satellite service.... but the main reason I wanted it was for the music.

After years of being held hostage by limited formats and repetitive play lists on regular commercial radio stations, I installed the satellite receiver in my car and looked forward to uninterrupted music, with enough channels that I could zero-in on specific categories that I enjoy.

It would be radio nirvana.

I could tune-in commercial-free music channels, minus the mindless banter, silly contests or other shenanigans from self-promoting disc jockeys.

What excited me most was a channel offered by Sirius featuring the old "standards"... music primarily from around the early 1950s.

But then.... wouldn't you know it.... shortly after I started buying the service, Sirius changed that channel to "all Frank Sinatra."

Frank Sinatra is a wonderful, iconic performer... but, like good wine, he's best taken in moderation, not 24/7.

So, no continuous variety of standards for ol' Dan to listen to.

My next favorite channel was one they called "The Bridge".... It was quite good.... Paul Simon, James Taylor, Carly Simon, Elton John, Billy Joel, Jennifer Warnes, the Eagles, Dan Fogleberg, Roberta Flack and others....

Not for long though.... Sirius took it off,* and designated that channel "all Bruce Springsteen" all the time. Springsteen is good.... but 24/7.... I don't think so!

But still I remained somewhat optimistic about my satellite service.

My music oasis would be the Sirius classic country channel known as the Roadhouse.

Here was a place where I could always find the classic, authentic country songs and performers I'd enjoyed for many years.... Ernest, Hank, Roger, Merle, Emmylou, Johnny, Loretta, Marty, Tammy, Tom T, the Statlers and many others.

OK.... occasionally the Roadhouse still delivers.... but only occasionally.

Frankly, it delivers only when there are no disc jockeys.

By putting on DJs, or hosts, for much of the day.... they're right back to the unnecessary "idle chatter" that I hoped to avoid.

They spend far too much time telling me what's on other Sirius channels. You know.... if I wanted to listen to other channels, I'd be listening to them!

And here's the worst part.

Whenever the DJs are on duty, their selection of music is conspicuously narrow.... obviously reflecting their personal connections, or perhaps some other agenda.

Like a magician, I often amaze family and friends by successfully predicting which overly-featured performers will be played by certain DJs in the minutes ahead.

It never takes long.

Even though I listen to Sirius no more than 30 to 45 minutes a day, there's one specific recording that I've heard 12 times in a matter of weeks.... and, trust me, it's not a song you'd necessarily expect to find on a list of "classic country" songs.

I think Sirius/XM needs to use just $200 or so of that $80,000,000 they're paying Howard Stern to buy a few more CDs for the Roadhouse programmers....

Then demand that their DJs play a broader mix of classics....

And to stop talking so much.

OK, I'm ranting now.

Perhaps it's time for me to go back to my old, reliable CD player.

Right now though, I'm going to check my blood pressure.

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*OK, so Sirius finally put The Bridge back on... but only after this essay first appeared on the WSMV website, and several people emailed to tell me that they were forwarding it to Sirius.

This kind of picture-taking may be intimidating for you.... but it's really easy for someone like me, who's worked in media, around cameras, as long as I have.
I can quickly teach you how to do it.

Here's all you have to do.

Figure out where everybody needs to stand....

Place the camera in a firm, steady spot....

Push the button....

Get in place....

Relax and smile....

There's no hurry, since the camera allows you 10 or 12 seconds to get to your spot and pose....

Listen for the "click"....

And there's your photo.

This took place on the California coast a little north of San Francisco.

My keen eye immediately told me I'd found a perfect setting to capture a beautiful photograph of my wife Karen, myself and our daughter McKensie, with a panoramic view of the Pacific in the background.

My wife suggested maybe we should ask someone nearby to snap a picture of us.
I wanted none of that.

At first I tried placing the camera on the roof of our rental car.

When that didn't work, I cleverly mounted it on the armrest of the passenger seat.

OK, so it took about 15 minutes.... but, as you can see, the 5th photo proved to be worth the effort.

Maybe someday I'll use Photoshop to airbrush all that gang graffiti off the wall, and it'll be suitable for framing.

What's spookier than looking out the door of an NBC television station and seeing a "peacock" looking in?
Sounds like a highly conceived and implemented promotional campaign... but it's not.

The peacock simply took up residence here at WSMV many weeks ago, and has become a fixture around our parking lot and property.

We have no idea where it came from, or how it got here.

OK, I know it's technically a "pea-hen"... but everybody calls it the "Channel 4 peacock"... and one of the first questions most of us ask, as we arrive at work everyday, is --"Has anybody seen the peacock today?"

Most of us are happy to share our beautiful hilltop location with such a fine-feathered friend... but some aren't so enamored.

That's because the peacock likes to perch on top of cars and trucks in the parking lot, and occasionally leaves a special little "gift" on the roofs and trunks for the owners to enjoy... uhhh, to clean up.

Our news director, Matthew Hilk, keeps suggesting that if we'd all stop feeding the bird -- it would move on to someplace else.

But that suggestion is always met with a chorus of boos, hisses and humbugs.

My pal Terry Bulger took a camera into the parking lot last month and did a funny little one-minute story on the bird.

The fact is... there's been great concern about the peacock's safety, because our Knob Hill location is a haven for foxes, coyotes, and all manner of potential bird-eating critters.
And we want to protect her.

After all, the peacock is the national bird of India... and, think about it... if there was a bald eagle hanging around a parking lot somewhere in New Delhi, I'm certain we'd want the good people of India to care for it.
So, this weekend, a person who knows how to catch and care for peacocks is coming to get the bird, and take it to live a life of luxury on his farm.

I'll miss seeing her... in living color... but I understand it's for the best to send her away.

In fact, if you zoom-in a little (2nd photo) you can actually glimpse -- across the river -- some of the thousands of people sitting on the riverbank enjoying the music and food at the "Music City Soul Food Festival."

Hundreds more had staked out spots on the east side, near LP Field, to put down their chairs and blankets.

What most of these folks had in common on that Saturday evening was the struggle to find a decent parking spot within a reasonable distance of Riverfront Park.

Yet, right there -- within easy walking distance across the scenic old Shelby Pedestrian Bridge -- are several gigantic, easily accessible, well marked parking lots, with hundreds of spaces.

But don't even try to park there!

The lots have big, yellow gates -- chained and locked -- to make certain no cars get inside.

I can't help but wonder... why??

Why not use those parking lots as a way to attract people to events downtown.... or for shopping, or dining?

What about for a concert at the Schermerhorn?

My goodness, wouldn't it be convenient and appealing to park there and take a delightful stroll across Nashville's iconic, beautifully lighted Shelby Bridge into downtown?

I recall back when the city first reopened the historic bridge, those lots were not locked, and visitors were free to park there.

These days the Shelby bridge is, effectively, a bridge to nowhere... oh, except when there are football games.
Is that what it's all about now?

There are cities all over the U.S. -- Savannah, Georgia... San Jose, California... Austin, Texas... Medford, Oregon -- that are implementing free, convenient parking as a way to attract tourists and locals to downtown shops, restaurants and events.

In San Francisco, you'll even find some free parking available while you walk across the Golden Gate Bridge.

Couldn't Nashville find a way to, at least, open the two parking lots nestled directly at the east end of the Shelby Bridge?

Mister Mayor, tear down those gates!
We want the freedom to park.... even if we have to pay for it.

There's something really sad about a parking lot... with so much to offer... just sitting alone and empty.

In light of this week's developments in Boulder, Colorado, I'm revisiting something I wrote here 4 years ago.

You never know what a day will bring.

In November of 1999, I had one of those days.

I knew very little about the JonBenet Ramsey murder case when I came to work that day, but before another day had passed, I was considered -- by some -- an expert on the Ramseys.

When I walked into the newsroom, I was handed a message that the publishing company Thomas-Nelson had called and requested that I interview John and Patsy Ramsey the next day.

What did I know of the Ramseys?

I knew many people believed one, or both, had killed their young daughter.

I knew they had not spoken with the news media in well over a year.

I knew that people like Tom Brokaw, Barbara Walters, Katie Couric, Diane Sawyer, Jane Pauley, Ted Kopple, and even Oprah Winfrey had been trying to get the Ramseys to sit down for an interview, to no avail.
I knew this was a plum interview falling into my lap.

Why me?

To this day, I'm not sure.... but I figure they wanted a gentle interview from someone with no agenda.

The local publishers knew my interviewing style.

They wanted to generate talk about the Ramseys' soon-to-be-published book, without stirring up a shouting match.

I stayed up all night reading up on the case.

The next day I showed up at the publishing firm with my video crew.

We set up lights and cameras, and waited.
I was given a few ground rules. They would not talk about the murder -- at all.

That was disappointing.

And I had only 12 to 15 minutes with them. Agreed.

When the Ramseys walked into the room, my first thought was how pleasant and ordinary they looked.
And they were pleasant.

In all my years in broadcasting, I'd never been so sought after.
I agreed to just a few of the requests.

I was interviewed twice on MSNBC.

Dateline NBC sent a correspondent to interview me.

A segment of the Ramsey interview aired on NBC Nightly News.

And I did a full hour on Larry King Live on CNN.

It was all exciting and, truthfully, a bit uncomfortable. I knew I was not -- by any stretch of the imagination -- an expert on the case. But I had done something no one else could manage to do.... I had talked with the elusive Ramseys.

There were two people appearing with me on Larry King Live who had followed the case from the very beginning.
Yet, for his final question of the show, Larry chose to ask me, "Dan, do you think this case will ever be solved?"

So many people saw these interviews.

I heard from old friends all around the country.

Some of them I've continued to stay in touch with.

As for whether I think John and Patsy did it, I'll tell you the same thing I said back then.
I had always assumed they did it. But after meeting them, I began to doubt that.

During my research, I discovered two facts that cast doubt on their guilt.

First, the roll of duct tape used to wrap JonBenet's body was never found. It wasn't in the house the next day.

Second, I learned a side door of the house had been left unlocked. That could explain how someone got in.
And, looking into the eyes of these parents, who seemed so normal, it was beyond my comprehension how they could commit such a ghastly crime and manage to go on living with themselves.

So there.... if I had to place my money, I'd say 'no', they didn't do it.

But I don't know.

Oh, and when Larry King asked if I thought the case would ever be solved, I said, "No, I don't."

PostScript:

On July 9th, 2008 -- 12 years after the brutal murder of JonBenet -- the Boulder District Attorney announced that new DNA tests had cleared John, Patsy, and JonBenet's brother in the murder.
The DA apologized to the family.

From the corner of my eye, I could see my wife dancing around the room, swiping in the air.

"There's a tiny, little bug flying around in here" she said.

Honestly, I couldn't see the bug.... neither could our daughter McKensie, who paused her project on the laptop computer in order to help scan the room with her 9-year old super vision.

Karen was certain she had spotted some sort of very small bug, and she wasn't about to give up her search.

The three of us slowly surveyed the room... but saw no bug.
After a few minutes, Karen seemed to accept that the bug had obviously hidden itself somewhere in the drapes or furniture, never to be seen again.

I went back to reading....
McKensie resumed her project on the computer....
Karen patiently kept scanning the room.

Suddenly, "There it is!" she exclaimed....
"Everybody be still"....
"It's landed on the computer, and I can see it moving across the screen."

She walked over and tried to smash it with her thumb....
"It's moving faster than I can catch it" she said.

The wind was chilly and biting that day, so other inmates were reluctant to join me in the recreation yard.

That's me, standing alone outside, but within the big walls of Alcatraz.

I was only about an hour into my stay at, what we call, the Rock.

Alcatraz is unrelentingly fascinating...

The cells, the stories, the sounds.

Inside, there are photos of some of the infamous inmates who spent time there...
Robert Stroud, the Birdman of Alcatraz....
Al Capone....
Machine Gun Kelly.

OK... mine was a voluntary visit a couple of weeks ago, along with several hundred other tourists.

Even the gift shop is something special... perhaps the most comprehensive and authentic gift shop I've seen in a tourist attraction anywhere.
It's filled with books, clothing, videos and other mementoes that reflect the serious, intriguing nature of what that place was all about.

The day we visited, a former inmate -- Darwin Coon -- was there signing copies of his book about Alcatraz, and answering questions about his days as a bank robber, and what life was like on the Rock.

Alcatraz is a surprisingly beautiful place, with a breathtaking view of the bay and, of course, the City by the Bay.

So, at one point, my wife Karen asked Darwin Coon if -- given all the flowers and seagulls, the view of San Francisco, the much touted "good food" served three times a day, and the pleasant sounds of the bay -- perhaps there might've been some enjoyment in staying there?

Darwin didn't smile, he barely moved a muscle, and just sort of snorted, "It was bad!"

Alcatraz is a huge magnet for tourists.... with one-and-a-half million people taking that ferry ride from Pier 33 to the island every year.

Hmmm... that's probably more people than used to visit Opryland, back when it was Tennessee's top tourist attraction.... before it was unceremoniously dismantled to make way for a shopping mall.

It got me to thinking.....
Maybe we should re-open the old Tennessee State Prison along Centennial Boulevard as a tourist attraction?

It's an impressively spooky place, with a haunting history and story.
Like Alcatraz, it's had its share of well-known inmates.
James Earl Ray was briefly housed at the old Tennessee prison.

And it has something that Alcatraz doesn't have.... an old, abandoned "death row".... including the actual room where condemned men were put to death in the electric chair.

Not necessarily a pleasant thing... but fascinating.

The old Tennessee prison was the scene of several riots.
Channel 4 has great archival video of a stand-off with authorities in the early 1960s.

It's also been the setting for some famous movies... including the Academy Award winning "The Green Mile" with Tom Hanks, and "The Last Castle" with Robert Redford.

Like it or not, the old Tennessee State Prison is part of our history, dating back to the 1800s.
A visit would be educational and certainly thought provoking.

Why it might even motivate some would-be criminals to take another path.

The deteriorating old building is just sitting there empty now.... waiting for its next mission.

Why can't that mission be to serve as a seductive destination?

Who knows... it could recapture some of those money-wielding tourists who escaped when Opryland disappeared.

George Carlin almost always made me laugh, though I would usually turn the TV sound very low to protect nearby innocent ears.

Much of his funniest stuff is simply not suitable for anyone easily offended by strong language..... so I won't print those comments here....

But I will offer a few of George's observations on life.

The first joke I remember hearing from George Carlin was his classic weather forecast, presented on the Ed Sullivan Show many years ago:
"The weather forecast for tonight: Dark. Continued dark overnight, with widely scattered light by morning."

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"Some people see things that are and ask, Why? Some people dream of things that never were and ask, Why not? Some people have to go to work and don't have time for all that @#*!!#!!"

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"Just because you got the monkey off your back doesn't mean the circus has left town."

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"The very existence of flame-throwers proves that some time, somewhere, someone said to themselves, You know, I want to set those people over there on fire, but I'm just not close enough to get the job done."

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"Have you ever noticed that anyone driving slower than you is an idiot, and anyone driving faster than you is a maniac?"

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"When someone is impatient and says, "I haven't got all day," I always wonder, How can that be? How can you not have all day?"

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"Who decides when the applause should die down? It seems like it's a group decision; everyone begins to say to themselves at the same time, Well, okay, that's enough of that.""

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"The next time they give you all that civic @#!!#* about voting, keep in mind that Hitler was elected in a full, free democratic election."

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"... the best thing about getting older is you're not responsible for remembering things anymore. It's a lot of fun. You can look around the dining room table and say, "Who are you people and where is my horse?"" **(slightly edited)**

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"If the Cincinnati Reds were really the first major league baseball team, who did they play?"

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"Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish, and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day."

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"Not only do I not know what's going on, I wouldn't know what to do about it if I did."

I'm on vacation, doing as little as humanly possible, so here's a "rerun" of an essay I wrote more than 3 years ago.

How would guys like me measure anything if it weren't for football fields?

If someone asks me about the acreage of a particular piece of property, I confess.... I have no idea.... but I can give you a pretty good idea of how many football fields would fit on that land.

And if someone asks me to estimate the distance to a particular point down the road, I can offer a fairly accurate guess on the number of yards.

It's then up to somebody else, with a knack for math, to convert the yardage to feet, or meters, or whatever.

The trick is to visualize the yard lines on the gridiron.... and it works equally as well indoors or out.

While visiting a farm recently, my wife asked me to estimate the distance to a stream behind the farm house.

I visualized goal posts at the other end, and said, "Oh, it's about one-and-a-half football fields.

I then paced it off.... and I was pretty darned close.

My wife, on the other hand, is more likely to describe something as "about half the size of the Target parking lot."

She's pretty good at that.

But for many men like me, if it weren't for those imaginary football yard markers ingrained in our brains, judging distances would be a lost art.

Interestingly, I was reading a book the other day about the Great Pyramid in Egypt, and the official description of the structure pointed out that the base would cover 10 football fields.

Probably written by a man.

Of course, the ancient Egyptians likely described those structures as "covering 5 chariot race tracks," or "25 tug of war courts," or whatever they played back then.

Truthfully, I'm exaggerating a bit. I'm well aware of the more scientific and accurate ways of measuring distances.

For example, I'll be walking out to the car in just a few minutes, and I know -- once I get out the door -- the distance from the back door to my parked car is almost exactly the distance from the pitcher's mound to home plate.

In this season of "reruns", here's a timely essay I first posted in June, 2005.

I recall an old joke about people freezing to death at a drive-in theatre, while waiting in their car to see "Closed For The Winter."

I recall many things about drive-in theaters.
Some of the later memories are quite pleasant....

But my earliest recollections of going to the drive-in are of oppressively hot Georgia nights, with my Mother and one of her sisters in the front seat, and several of us kids stuck in the back seat, craving more popcorn, trying to sleep, or at least sit still.... needing to go to the restroom.... trying to endure the inevitable growing pain and cramps in my leg.... occasionally glancing at the black and white movie through a bug-stained windshield....
trying not to fidget and make noise, while the grownups somehow seemed to actually enjoy the never-ending sappy love story that always starred Van Johnson and June Allyson, or Clark Gable and Lana Turner, projected (slightly out of focus) on the giant outdoor screen, with dialogue barely discernible through a scratchy little speaker hung on the side window.

I'm pretty sure I remember.... even as a young child.... thinking, "this is no way to watch a movie!"

But my Mother and her sisters had found a way to go to the movies -- with all us kids in tow -- and I'm sure that was a good thing for them.

And, as with so many things in life we took for granted, what I would give now to go back to that place -- even for one night -- with those same people.

Drive-in theaters are like '57 Chevys.... some are still around.... but probably their greatest attraction is the memories they stir up.

The first drive-in opened on June 6, 1933 in Camden, New Jersey, and over the next quarter century, they popped up everywhere -- peaking at around 5,000 by the late 1950s.
Then came a rapid decline.

The experts say it's because of daylight saving time, television and videos, and the high price of the real estate to put them on.

But I believe the main reason drive-ins went away is because it's so rare anymore to find movies that a family -- consisting of parents in the front, and squirming kids in the back -- can feel OK about watching together.

Say what you will, those old Van Johnson - June Allyson movies were never too suggestive or embarrassing to watch.... they were just painfully boring to us kids.

So, go to a drive-in theatre when you see one.

Get out and get under the moon.

I fear it won't be long before the only title you'll see advertised on the drive-in marquee will be "Closed For Good."

From time to time people send me photos of themselves, or someone, watching TV with my image on the screen.

Even though I'm aware that, at any given moment, thousands of people are tuned-in to our newscasts, it's always heartwarming for me to actually see them -- especially a baby, or even an animal -- watching me do my job.

The top photograph next to this essay was sent to me by someone more than 30 years ago, and I've been hanging on to it ever since.

On the TV screen, that's me in the middle, with Boyce Hawkins on my right, and Paul Eells barely visible on my left.

I don't know whose cat that is... or who sent the photo.... but I do know I treasured my friendship with both those men... so I love the picture.

The next two snapshots were sent to me just a few days ago, and I love these photos as well.

The cute little kid checking out the Channel 4 newscast is Jerison.

His mother Cindy sent me the photographs.

She said Jerison just pulled up a chair (though we don't see the chair) and watched almost the entire newscast.

I guess he was "on his feet" at that moment -- spellbound.

Way to go Jerison!

We like your 'demographic group.'

I'm thankful for all our viewers, but truly, it's the kids who always inspire me to try and be a better broadcaster.

We happened to pass a house that sparked a particular memory for all of us.

It had happened about 6 or 7 years earlier.

"Do you remember the time I pulled into that driveway right there with a flat tire, and spent at least 2 hours changing it?" I asked.

"Yes I do" Karen said, "I was wearing my white ballet pumps with blue bows that I got in France.... and my navy skirt with white polka dots, and a white sweater."

Now I know that's exactly what she said to me because -- astonished that she would recall such details -- I asked her to repeat it, and I wrote it down!

To be fair -- on the day of the flat tire -- her memory was probably super-charged by the lingering fear that she was going to have to exit the car and help me change the tire, and she knew she wasn't exactly wearing 'work clothes'.

Still, it amazes me.

I've said it before.... most days, if you tell me to look up, or cover my eyes, and describe for you what I'm wearing RIGHT AT THAT MOMENT, there's an excellent chance I wouldn't know.

Not only can Karen often recall what she was wearing for any particular event, spanning the 29 years since I met her.... she can even remind me of what I was wearing when we ate at a little catfish place in Ashland City 12 years ago.

As for my daughter's recollection of the tire-changing caper, she just remembers that Daddy was "kinda grumpy" that day.

After so much response to my link to a retrospective on Channel 4 in the 1970s, I have another one for you.

Today, I'll take you back to the early 1980s.

Over the years, Channel 4 has done many promotional image campaigns, but none was more popular than the "Hello Nashville" spots we ran through much of the 80s.

The photo here is of Frank Gari, when he was a much younger man.

It shows the jacket to one of his hit records that was released around 1961.

After a measure of success as a pop singer, he took his career in a whole new direction, writing and composing TV jingles and theme songs.

Frank is the one who gave the world the "I'm A Pepper" campaign for Dr. Pepper, as well as the "Be All You Can Be" campaign for the U.S. Army.

But most of his success has come from jingles and music for television news operations.

Sometime around 1980, he introduced the "Hello News" campaigns to TV stations in dozens of cities all over the U.S...even in Australia.

Here at WSMV-TV in Nashville, we were one of the many stations that used the highly effective campaign.
If you were living in Middle Tennessee in the 1980s, you will probably remember it well.
"Hello Nashville" became so popular that we even staged a concert with the Nashville Symphony Orchestra at T-PAC in the mid 80's, in which vocalist Florence Warner joined with the symphony for a stunning performance of "Hello Nashville."

Here's one of the jingles which I've posted on YouTube.
In it, you'll see Lonnie Lardner, Charlie Mac, Bill Hall, a skinny me, and a lot of other Nashvillians from 1983.

And then, if you care to, you can watch the Nashville Symphony performance with Florence Warner singing the jingle.

The video quality is rather poor, but you'll see a short snippet of a promotional spot shot during rehearsal…followed by the full performance, which I introduce on stage.

Railroad tracks connect every nook and cranny of this country -- running through cities, towns and countryside alike.

In many cases the 'rights-of-way' are already in place.

If -- years ago -- the federal government had constructed parallel tracks along the existing beds, then depots would already be rebuilt, the railroad industry would be booming, and long trains would be transporting passengers and cargo in all directions day and night.

And make no mistake, it would have to involve the federal government.

It could no more be left to private industry than we could leave our interstate highway system to the private sector.

If we undertook such a project today, the cost would be considerable.
Yet the benefits of a robust railroad industry -- combined with easing the burden of filling our tanks and driving along increasingly clogged interstate highways -- would be immeasurable.

Last summer I traveled with my family on high speed trains through parts of France and Germany.
It was delightful... mostly hassle-free... and relatively inexpensive.

Sure, it would involve a lot of work, money and innovation, but trains -- already a rich part of this nation's history -- could ultimately enrich our future.

As for what causes a name to rise or fall in popularity, it sometimes has to do with the emergence of a national hero or celebrity.
But more often, it just happens.

I got all this information from the Social Security Administration, which maintains a fascinating website with tons of information about the popularity of names for specific years and decades, going back to 1880.
CLICK HERE and check out the popular names for the year you were born.

I'm posting this essay on May 15th, 2008... and offering a toast to the 90th birthday of Eddy Arnold.

But I'm actually writing this at my computer on the evening of May 14th, just hours after being seated on the front row at the Ryman auditorium, roughly 10 feet from Eddy's casket.
Today as I sat there listening to the music, and the eloquent words spoken about Eddy, my thoughts flashed back to the early 1950s when... as an ogle-eyed 9 year old kid... I sat on the front row, just about 10 feet from the stage, watching Eddy perform.

In my wildest imagining, it would never even cross my mind that -- more than a half-century down the road -- I'd be one of the pallbearers carrying this personal hero to his final resting place.

It was the truest of honors....
It was the saddest of honors.

As we stood around backstage, the conversations ranged from funny recollections of Eddy's kind, quirky personality -- to the astonishing details of his career.

But one little anecdote sticks in my mind.

My pal Mike Curb told me he was there at Eddy's bedside just days before he lapsed into a coma...
Eddy told him, "You know Mike, I think I have one more album in me... I just gotta get better."

It's amazing.
After a remarkable career spanning seven decades, Eddy -- with his quiet, understated confidence -- felt he could still offer the world one more album of wonderful music.

Sadly and perhaps selfishly, I feel a great personal loss with the passing of Eddy Arnold.

He was the last of the country music icons who touched my life early and often.

In recent weeks I'd been in frequent communication with Eddy's family, hoping for a chance to visit with him again, but time ran out before that could happen.

As a young boy, the very first record I ever purchased with my own meager savings was "There's Been A Change In Me"... one of Eddy's #1 hits in the early 1950s.
I once told Eddy the story of how -- just one day after I bought that old 78 rpm RCA record -- I sat on it, and shattered it.

It's funny, but all these years later I still clearly recall the color of the chair in which the "sitting and shattering" took place.... and the exact spot in our living room where the chair was located.

That's the way it is with memorable events... every detail is locked in your brain.

When I related that story to Eddy a few years ago, he told me he could get me another copy of that song, and he wasn't sure it would be on a 78 rpm record.
Such a kind man.

In the 1950s, when I got the news that Eddy Arnold would be performing in my hometown, I quickly went into my savings again and bought a ticket.
I was first in line there at the Imperial Theatre in Augusta, waiting for the doors to open... and when they did, I grabbed a seat on the front row, just a few feet from where Eddy performed.

Years later, the first time I interviewed Eddy, I jokingly asked him if he remembered seeing me in the audience...
"Ah yes" he answered, "I remember you... the little boy in the short pants."

Just a few months ago, I was invited to an event there in Augusta at the old Imperial Theatre, and I got the chance to stand on that stage in the exact spot where Eddy had performed a half century earlier....
and I told the audience that story.... even pointing out the exact seat where I had been sitting.

Wow.... that's another chair that I vividly recall..... because of Eddy Arnold.

Eddy Arnold was the most successful singer ever to come out of Tennessee.
He sold 85 million records -- and kept selling records during, what were, tough times for many other country performers.

Part of his secret was an ability to adapt.
Without changing himself as a singer, he could adjust the orchestration that surrounded him, and stay on the cutting edge.

But the biggest part of his musical appeal simply cannot be explained.
It was his voice.
At its center, a mysterious little kernel.... a nugget.... that made him stand apart.
Someone once described his voice as something akin to the lower register of a clarinet.
That was his gift.

Add to that, he was a dignified gentleman.

When historians talk about who put Nashville and country music on the map, Eddy Arnold will always be part of the conversation.

I'm a sucker for a walk down memory lane, literally or figuratively.
And the memory-generating potential of a walk through my old Georgia neighborhood can be greatly enhanced by the aroma of azaleas and dogwoods gloriously strutting their springtime stuff.

Part of the allure, I suppose, is knowing I won't be -- can't be -- staying there for long.
If I could, I still wouldn't.
I now belong in Tennessee.

Still, I visit now and then -- fully understanding that I can get back to the place, but not the time.

A few weeks ago I wandered the streets of my boyhood, accompanied by my Nashville pals Rudy Kalis and Terry Bulger.
We were there to attend a Masters tournament practice round.

I drove them through chunks of Augusta, pointing out significant landmarks of my childhood and beyond.

"That's where I went to kindergarten... and right there is where Bill Marsh pushed me onto my knees into a burning pile of leaves....."

"That's my old grammar school....."

"That's my old high school....." *(behind me in attached photo)*

"That's the polling place where I voted for the first time...."

"That's Augusta College, where I spent 2 years showing up for classes...."
(FYI... they've changed the name now to Augusta State University... a mistake in my opinion... Augusta College had a more distinctive ring to it)

"That's where I reluctantly got into a fist fight during my college days...."

Yep, I showed Rudy and Terry every nook and cranny of my youth.
They were courteous and -- I'm pretty sure -- they remained attentive.
We stepped onto the porch of the house where I lived from the age of 4 until I left the nest.
We walked the same paved sidewalk where I rode my bicycle.
Some of the pavement was still broken or uneven in the same places I remember.
I even recalled some of the trees, though they're impressively thicker now... but so am I.

My color commentary never stopped......

"That's the driveway I turned out of on my bike just a split second before being hit by a car......"

"The people who lived in this house owned a mean, loud and dangerous German Shepherd...."

"The former mayor of Augusta lived there...."

"The folks in this house bought the very first television set in the neighborhood....."

"I planted that tree with my grandfather more than a half century ago...."

"A blind couple lived here, and I recall that they could easily distinguish a $1 bill from a $5 bill.... I still don't know how they did it...."

"That used to be an open field, and that's where we played football...."

Then, the sight of one particular house -- across the street from where I had lived -- brought back something I'd not thought about for years.
It was the home of Mrs. Gardiner... a shadowy elderly woman who dressed mostly in black.

She had lived there alone since the death of her husband years earlier -- and she was rarely spotted outside, or anywhere.
The rumor among the kids was that she was a witch of some sort... and we had no reason not to believe it.
Her house was dark and intimidating.... seldom were there any lights turned on at night.... the grass and shrubs were overgrown.

The day she died, Mrs. Gardiner dropped to the ground right there in her yard.... barely 15 feet from where we kids walked every day.

For 8 days her body lay there in the tall grass.
Nobody noticed.

After authorities finally found and removed her, an eerie imprint of her body remained... clearly evident in the wilted grass.
I would stand with my young playmates, staring at that unsettling silhouette on the ground, a bit distressed by the sheer bizarreness of it all.
That was more than 50 years ago.

As I was describing those strange events to Rudy and Terry just weeks ago, I glanced over at the house where it all happened.

I noticed in the yard -- very near where Mrs. Gardiner had died -- two young girls, dressed in bright spring clothes, playing.
They appeared to be no more than 10 or 11 years old.
I could hear laughter as they ran across the well manicured lawn.

The fruit of time's passage is not always what we might expect.
Half a century later.... and Mrs. Gardiner's old house is vibrant, alive and enchanting.

Just in case you haven't seen the attached photo... we here at Dan Miller's Notebook want to make sure you don't miss it.
And by "we" here at Dan Miller's Notebook, I mean me.

The top photo is of a chihuahua named Mondex.

Just a few days ago, his impressive scuba outfit secured him first place in a pet fashion show in Manila.
Thanks to his unique look, Mondex got his photo posted in newspapers and websites all around the globe.

He looks so authoritative in his four-legged wet-suit that, I'm certain, rumors will start circulating that the Philippine government is considering him as a possible "frog-dog" for its navy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next photo was forwarded to me by someone, somewhere.
I have no idea whose dog it is... just that it's an astounding, on- the-money, Wonder Woman look-alike.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The third photo was also emailed from somewhere.
It shows a humiliated dog wearing a costume that depicts an alligator attack.

Wait a minute!... that is just a costume, isn't it?

I've often wondered whether dogs enjoy being dressed in these outlandish costumes, or is it something that should send us troubling messages about the dog's owners.

Perhaps you have wondered why cats don't show up in these silly outfits as often as dogs....
Well, there's an explanation.

A friend who owns cats says the reason is obvious.....
"Cats" -- he said -- "simply won't stand for it."

I imagine some of you may wonder what we talk about during our afternoon news editorial meetings here at the TV station.

Well, this week as we all sat around the big newsroom conference table, the talk - (as any meaningful conversation eventually does) - turned to the topic of boll weevils.

The discussion was sparked by a story about "pork barrel spending" by Tennessee lawmakers... specifically, six-and-a half million dollars to eradicate the boll weevil.
Now, a lot of people consider that a great waste of money, since we have only nine-thousand boll weevils in the entire state of Tennessee.

Think about it... with only 9,000 boll weevils... and $6,500,000...
that comes out to more than $722 per boll weevil.
Goodness, if I could have earned that much cash for every cockroach I smashed while growing up in Georgia, I'd be a billionaire today.

But our news discussion took a strange turn when someone asked, "How do they know there are only nine-thousand boll weevils in Tennessee?"
Someone else chimed in, "It's done by a census and -- the reality is -- not all boll weevils fill out the questionnaire."

The conversation expanded... "What about boll weevils that are kept by people as pets... are they counted in the census?"

Even our news director, a man of sound journalistic credentials, jumped into the discussion, "I don't think I'd know a boll weevil if one walked into this room right now."

Still another voice... "Would we even be able to see a boll weevil if he did walk into the room.... how big are they?"

From across the table, "Oh they're big... sometimes you can see them grazing in the fields..."
OK, you get the picture.

We eventually moved on to other, more pressing topics.... such as the woman in Florida who found an 8-foot alligator in her kitchen.

Oh! .... about the photo next to this essay.

That's Main Street in Enterprise, Alabama, where they actually have a monument celebrating the boll weevil.
You can see the lady holding a giant boll weevil over her head.

The citizens of Enterprise will tell you it's the only monument in the world honoring a pest.
It's been there since 1919, recognizing the boll weevil as the catalyst for a new era of prosperity.
It seems the boll weevil destroyed the cotton crop and made it necessary for the locals to grow peanuts, soy beans and other crops that ended up generating much more money than cotton.

I can't help but wonder how much money Alabama lawmakers have to allocate every year for upkeep of the monument and the fountain that surrounds it?

My 9-year old daughter often contemplates philosophical questions, and she knows a good answer when she hears it.

On Sunday we took her to a local barbecue spot and, as we perused the menu, the following dialogue took place.

MCKENSIE: "Daddy, I love animals, and I just don't like it that we have to kill animals to get meat."

ME: "I know sweetie, but that's just the way it works."

MCKENSIE: "Wouldn't it be nice if there was a way to get meat from something that had never been a living thing?"

ME: "Yes, but that's not the way it happens in nature."
"Everything that's alive feeds on something else that is, or was, alive."
"Even plants and fruit and vegetation were once living things."
"It's the old 'food chain thing'.... down through the ages, living things have sustained and nourished themselves on other living things."

The Augusta National golf course was teaming with folks from Nashville and, during our brief time there, it seems we encountered every one of them.

Late in the morning Rudy Kalis, Terry Bulger and I decided to stop walking for a while, and rest in the mostly empty bleachers next to the 8th hole.

As we climbed to the top, we happened upon five Nashville firefighters who -- like us -- had driven down to Augusta for the Tuesday practice round at the Masters.
There, for the next half-hour or so -- as we all watched Gary Player, Trevor Immelman and others putt around on the green -- we chatted with the firefighters sitting with us.

One of them, it turns out, was assigned to the fire hall fairly close to my home.
He informed me that -- should I ever have an emergency -- his engine company would be the one to show up at my house.

I told him how, a couple of weeks earlier, we very nearly had just such an emergency when one of my daughter's cotton shirts fell onto an incandescent light bulb and -- literally-- caught fire.
(Fortunately, it was quickly discovered and extinguished before any damage was done, though our house did reek of smoke for a few hours)

Our conversation then drifted back to golf.

But as I headed down the stairs to leave the bleachers, one of the firefighters uttered six words that could easily be used as a "mission statement" or "business slogan" for the fire department, if they wanted such a thing.

Just before I stepped onto the fairway grass, he called out, "Hey Dan."

As I watched the Masters on TV Sunday, I found myself really hoping Brandt Snedeker would win.
And not just because he's a Nashvillian.

Sure, it would be fun to have a hometown guy wearing the green jacket. We can always use another sports hero.
But there was more to it.

A few days earlier, during a practice round, I had witnessed -- up close and personal -- a classy gesture from Brandt.
At least it seemed classy and meaningful to me.

After his tee shot on the 10th, he walked down the fairway to his ball, then sprinted to the edge of the fairway to say hello and chat briefly with 3 familiar faces he spotted in the gallery -- Rudy Kalis, Terry Bulger and me.
Prior to that moment, I don't believe I'd ever met Brandt, but his thoughtful gesture was enough to assure my support.

Now I can hardly wait for his next tournament.

Brandt didn't win the Masters... but he gave it quite a run, and firmly established his name with golf fans everywhere.
He's a talented young man, with a friendly disposition... and I predict he'll make Nashville proud many times in the years ahead.

On Tuesday I spent a full day at the Augusta National, where some of the world's best golfers were practicing for the Masters.
Joining me on my little adventure down south were my pals Rudy Kalis and Terry Bulger.

We watched in awe as Tiger Woods, Phil Mickelson, Gary Player, Tom Watson and others did something most of us only fantasize about... That is... hitting a little white ball and having it come to a stop exactly where you're aiming for it to come to a stop.

These players are fascinating to watch, though sometimes the folks in the gallery can be just as interesting.
More than once we found ourselves discussing an annoying little gallery ritual that seems to be growing in popularity.

If you ever watch golf on TV, or stand in the crowd at a tournament, you've heard them.
I'm talking about the louder-than-necessary guys (hardly ever women) who stand behind the ropes at every tee.
They wait patiently and quietly for each golfer to address his tee shot, then -- a micro-second after the club connects with the ball -- their voices ring out... "Great shot!" ... "In the hole!"...
"Alright!"... "Atta way Phil!"... "Yeahhh!"... "You're the man Tiger!"... and countless other little exclamations of admiration.

Truthfully, if I were a player trying to stay focused on hitting the ball -- I think the sheer anticipation of the looming vocal barrage from the gallery would impact my swing, and certainly my follow-through.
Heck, I might even miss the ball completely... (an empty sensation I'm somewhat familiar with).

But, occasionally, just when you're braced to endure the irritating shrieks of loud-mouthed spectators, comes something like this.
As we stood next to the rope surrounding the 14th tee, Mark O'Meara -- who won at Augusta in 1998 -- teed off with a beautiful, towering drive straight down the middle, and out of sight.

Amazingly, none of the usual shouts from the crowd was heard... until the sweet voice of a child... no more than 3 years old... broke through the silence with, "Nice shot Mr. O'Meara."

A collective, hearty chuckle swelled up from the gallery.... and even Mark O'Meara himself couldn't suppress a wide grin that quickly turned into laughter.

Before heading down the fairway, O'Meara went to his golf bag... took out a shiny new ball... autographed it... walked over to the gallery and handed it to the little boy, who was nestled in his father's arms. The gallery applauded.

It was a nice moment.

Mark O'Meara was appreciative of, what had to be, the sweetest little "shout out" he'd heard from any gallery.
And he now has at least two new fans hoping he'll do well... maybe even take home another green jacket.... that little boy, and me.

If your old fence needs a fresh coat, don't call these two... they're actors, not painters.
But they are cute as can be, and they're members of the impressive cast for the latest stage production from Circle Players, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.

That's my 9-year old McKensie on the left, and her fellow actor, and pal, Isaiah Frank on the right.
I know it's quite a stretch, but the director has cast them as "kids" in the show.

I've written before about the wonderful stage productions put on several times a year by Circle Players, a community theatre that's been consistently presenting Broadway-quality shows in Nashville for almost 60 years.

Just below, you can play a short video preview of Tom Sawyer, made during a dress rehearsal.

Then head over to the Looby Center Theatre at 2301 Rosa L. Parks Boulevard in Metro Center.
The show runs through April 20th... with performances at 7:30 Thursday, Friday and Saturday... and 2:00 pm Sunday matinees.
Tickets are relatively cheap.... in fact, children 6 and under get in free.
And the first 200 student ticket holders will be given free copies of Mark Twain's classic book, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.

Starting today, I shall be known simply as "Dan."
I figure, if it's good enough for folks like Cher, Prince, Beyonce, Wynonna and Bono, it's good enough for me.

Many people function just fine with one name.
One of them is, apparently, my 9-year old daughter McKensie.
Every week, when she places her modest little offering in the church plate, she signs her name on the envelope simply 'McKensie'.
Yet, church administrators know exactly who she is.... and when we receive our statements from the church, itemizing our contributions, there's always a column correctly listing McKensie's donations.

My news co-anchor, Demetria Kalodimos, never needs to use her last name.... at least not in Nashville.
After being on television here for almost a quarter century, she's known to everyone as "Demetria" with no more information needed.

And there are others.
If I mention "Pacman".... is there any doubt in your mind who I'm referring to?

And think of all the country stars who we can quickly identify by one name.... Loretta.... Garth.... Emmylou.... Waylon.... Willie.... Hank Jr., and many others.

And that brings us back to me.

Since I'm writing this on April 1st, I'm allowed to claim that I'm dropping my last name.
But it underscores a troubling reality.
Not only are there untold thousands of "Dans" -- there are even lots of 'Dan Millers' out there.

As a matter of fact -- (and I've written about this in the past) -- there are so many Dan Millers that, when you Google the name, literally hundreds pop up.
Even right here in Nashville there are quite a few.
It occasionally leads to misdirected correspondence.

There's even a Dan Miller at NBC in New York whose inter-office emails I somehow receive at times.

Last year a young woman wrote me a letter telling how much she enjoyed my new self-help book, and asking if I'd be so kind as to send an autographed copy to her husband.
I told her I'd be thrilled to do that, except for the fact that I've never written a self-help book.
OK, I have -- out of burning necessity -- read a few self-help books, but I've never written one.

There is, I'm told, a Dan Miller living in Brentwood who has written such a book.

Ya know, to stand out from the crowd, I guess I should have followed my instinct years ago and adopted "Fabio" as my professional name.
But that's now being used by someone else..... someone I'm already mistaken for most every day.

I guess by now you've seen the photo of the corn flake shaped like the state of Illinois.
Isn't it astonishing?
Not astonishing that it looks like Illinois... astonishing that two sisters in Virginia actually made $1,350 by selling this thing on eBay.
One flake! $1,350!!!

Holy cow, I've eaten cereal all my life and never really bothered to pay close attention to the shape of the flakes.
I've probably poured milk over a fortune.

With that in mind, I spent some time last night studying a map, and the shapes of the states.

I quickly realized that -- somewhere in my tool boxes -- I have an old X-Acto knife with a chipped blade that looks exactly like Nevada.
That oughta be worth something.

And unless I'm mistaken, I've run across countless taco chips shaped just like South Carolina.
Sadly, seconds after finding them, I dipped them into a bowl of salsa and ate them.
Chalk it up to poor financial planning, spawned by poor eating habits.

By the way, here's an interesting little tidbit I noticed about the shape of states.... if you look at the border between Montana and Idaho, it bears an eerie resemblance to the profile of Richard Nixon!!
Check it out.

That's all for now.
I'm heading to the grocery store to pick up a box of corn flakes.

I saw a newspaper column promoting a "Buffett Special" on CNBC.
"Hmmm" I said -- to no one in particular -- "I might just watch that, since I've always enjoyed Jimmy Buffett's music.
A few lines down I realized it was a "special" about billionaire financial expert Warren Buffett.
It can be rather revealing, who comes to mind when a particular name is mentioned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I saw a story about a school district, where all parents are being urged not to leave their engines idling as they wait in line at school to pick up their kids.
The issue is, emissions needlessly polluting the air from motionless cars.
I couldn't help but think about that story the other day as I sat in line at the emissions testing center.
There were 14 cars in the two lines, all with their engines idling, pumping out emissions, as they waited 30 minutes or more to get their emissions tested.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is it just me, or does it seem there are more tornadoes now than there were years ago when we didn't have all the sophisticated radar systems to see them forming?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An article in the Akron Beacon Journal tells how a young man formerly known as Daniel Michael Miller II has legally changed his name to "The Dan Miller Experience."
He insists the name change isn't a tactic to pick up women.
He says there are dozens of licensed drivers in the Akron area alone named Dan Miller, but there's no one else named Experience.
Why didn't I think of that years ago?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you've ever wondered whether your religious beliefs are in proper alignment with the church you attend, here's a way to tell.
My brother Lynwood sent this one to me.
Go to THE WEBSITE and click on the survey titled Belief-Oh-Matic.
It'll take about 5 minutes.
You might be surprised at what you learn.

I don't recall who made that observation, but it's true.
Since I'm taking the week off from work, I'll simply pass along a list of 10 statements that have given me an "instant vacation" or two, and maybe it'll work for you.

1.) 'There are three kinds of people - those who can count, and those who can't."

2.) "You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you a look that says, 'My God, you're right! I never would've thought of that!"
~ Dave Barry

3.) "Sometimes I lie awake at night, and ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?' Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night."
~ Charles M. Schulz

4.) "My doctor gave me six months to live, but when I couldn't pay the bill he gave me six months more."
~ Walter Matthau

5.) "If you want your spouse to listen and pay attention to every word you say, talk in your sleep."
~ unknown

6.) "A study in the Washington Post says that women have better verbal skills than men. I just want to say to the authors of that study: "Duh.""
~ Conan O'Brien

7.) "I was such an ugly kid - when I played in the sandbox, the cat kept covering me up."
~ Rodney Dangerfield

8.) "Time may be a great healer, but it's also a lousy beautician."
~ unknown

9.) "Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away from them and you have their shoes."
~ Jack Handey

10.) "Check your neck. You might be a redneck if.......
You've ever lost a loved one to kudzu....
You've ever financed a tattoo....
Directions to your house include "turn off the main road."
~ Jeff Foxworthy

There are many streams of lifeblood for good journalism... fairness would be one... attribution would be another.

Whenever we broadcast accusations, assertions or any important information, it's imperative -- in the name of fairness (and for our own legal protection) -- that we mention where the statements or accusations come from, or 'who said it.'
For example, if we report on someone linked to a crime.... unless that person has been convicted or confessed.... we should certainly attribute the source of that information.

You hear it all the time.... "police say".... "according to prosecutors".... "according to the White House".... "the governor's office says".... etc.
But I'm noticing more and more that -- in local and national news -- facts, figures and quotes are attributed simply to "officials."
I call it 'lazy attribution' because it's easy and meaningless, and really doesn't tell me anything.
Who are these officials?

Think of all the officials we hear about on a daily basis....
School officials....
Government officials....
Health officials....
Highway officials....
Automotive industry officials....
Military officials....
TVA officials....

In recent years I've heard mention of Taliban officials and, believe it or not, "terrorist officials."

In referencing trash pickup, a reporter once quoted "trash officials."

I heard a local reporter use "music officials."
Who would that be?

Who's officially an official?
Hmmmm ... if a reporter wanted to ask me about my industry, and I answered his/her questions, would they refer to me as a "television official?"
That would be nice.

Usually, when I think of 'officials' ... I think of those guys in striped shirts, calling the penalties on the athletic fields.
Now I wonder.... if a representative of the NFL Official's Union made a statement, would proper attribution go something like, "according to Officials officials"?

As you watch our evening newscasts, and others, I encourage you to count the times you hear something attributed to 'officials.'
I assure you, you won't hear it too often from me.
That's according to "Dan Miller's Notebook officials."

By the way, in case you're wondering, I ran across the photo accompanying this essay on the internet.... labeled Blaine County, Nebraska Officials, 1908.

Did you know that D-S-T is probably the main reason for the demise of drive-in theaters in this country?
That's reason enough right there to abandon it.

Growing up in Georgia, we didn't observe D-S-T during my childhood.
We simply lived on Eastern Standard Time year round, and I don't recall it ever presenting a problem.
As a matter of fact, I fondly remember those warm summer evenings after the sun went down.
We'd sit out on the porch, or in the yard, and talk -- with crickets usually joining in the conversation, and lightning bugs putting on a show.

Nowadays, by the time the sun goes down in the spring and summer, it's pretty much bedtime for lots of folks.
No more lingering, lazy summer evenings.

And really, isn't D-S-T little more than a case of stealing from Peter to pay Paul?
We shift things so the "afternoon people" will get more sunshine... and we do it by taking sunlight away from the "early morning people."
Is that really fair to the early risers?

If it's so important to stack sunshine at the close of the day, why don't we just move the clocks forward an hour, maybe two hours.... and leave it that way.... for good... 12 months out of the year?
That would eliminate all the "twice yearly madness" of changing our clocks.
It would also make things more manageable for farmers and ranchers, whose animals don't care what the clock says.... they go strictly by nature's timetable.

And here's something else to ponder.
I saw a letter to the editor of a newspaper last year from a person concerned that adding the extra hour of sunlight was a contributing factor in global warming.
Huh??

Oh, and I recall a woman years ago expressing serious concern that the extra hour of sunlight would damage her garden.

So it's clear the extra hour of sunlight isn't making us any brighter!

I'm always fascinated when rare, seldom seen photographs of people or events are uncovered.
That's the case with the photo shown here, which you can make larger by clicking on it.

Here's the story of this particular photo, using the words of Associated Press writer Melissa Trujillo.

Researchers have uncovered a rare photograph of a young Helen Keller with her teacher Anne Sullivan, nearly 120 years after it was taken on Cape Cod.
The photograph, shot in July 1888 in Brewster, Massachusetts, shows an 8-year-old Helen sitting outside in a light colored dress, holding Sullivan's hand and cradling one of her beloved dolls.

Experts on Keller's life believe it could be the earliest photo of the two women together, and the only one showing the blind and deaf child with a doll -- the first word Sullivan spelled for Keller after they met in 1887 -- according to the New England Historic Genealogical Society, which now has the photo.

For more than a century, the photograph has belonged to the family of Thaxter Spencer, an 87 year old man in Waltham, Massachusetts.

Spencer's mother, Hope Thaxter Parks, often stayed at the Elijah Cobb House on Cape Cod during the summer as a child.
In July 1888, she played with Keller, whose family had traveled from Tuscumbia, Alabama, to vacation in Massachusetts.
Spencer, who doesn't know which of his relatives took the picture, told the society that his mother, four years younger than Helen, remembered Helen exploring her face with her hands.

Jan Seymour-Ford, a research librarian at the Perkins School for the Blind in Watertown, which both Sullivan and Keller attended, said she was moved to see how deeply connected the women were, even in 1888.
"The way Anne is gazing so intently at Helen, I think it's a beautiful portrait of the devotion that lasted between these two women all of Anne's life, " Seymour-Ford said.

There are few things more maddening than ruining something you really like.

Exhibit #1... the brand new dress shirt in the photo.
Close examination will reveal what happened when I stuck an open ink pen into the pocket.
And, of course, I did it the very first time I ever wore the shirt.
You can also probably detect the smeared, failed efforts to remove the ink.

I confess, this has happened many times before.
And I always seem to do it with the most indelible inks known to mankind, and usually just prior to an important interview or meeting.

When I came home with this latest spot, I'm pretty sure I caught a glimpse of my wife Karen, ever so slightly rolling her eyes.
Sadly, she's grown accustomed to these ink spots.

In fact, I've now assembled an impressive collection of new shirts with big, ugly permanent ink stains in the front pocket.
If these pocket spots ever come into vogue, I'll no doubt be featured on the fashion runways of Milan and Paris.

Now, for a moment, consider what violin virtuoso David Garrett experienced a couple of months ago.

Garrett... a 27 year old former child prodigy... was leaving Barbican Hall in London following a concert on December 27th.
Suddenly he tripped and fell, backwards, down a flight of concrete steps.
Draped over his shoulder at the time was a violin case containing his favorite violin.
When he opened the case, to his horror, the instrument inside was crushed, probably beyond repair.

And this wasn't just any violin.
It was a G.B. Guadagnini violin, built in 1772.
Garrett had purchased the instrument in 2003 for a cool $ 1,000,000.

Wow!
A million dollar violin, shattered by one simple misstep.

Well, that should do it.
Now, when certain people read this, I think this whole ink-stained shirt fiasco will fall into its proper perspective.

There are people among us who go to the polls and vote, before they've even celebrated their 5th birthday.
And their votes are perfectly legal.

Others are getting valid driver's licenses right after their 4th birthday.
These folks would even be eligible to run for president of the U.S. prior to their 9th birthday.

They're the "leaplings"... people born on February 29th, a date that only comes around every four years.
To make their lives simpler, most leaplings -- I'm told -- celebrate pseudo-birthdays on either February 28th or March 1st.
Still, I would imagine, all through their lives there's a lot of tiresome explaining and extra paperwork to deal with.

If you think it's a hassle for them, consider the poor folks born in Sweden on February 30, 1712.
They never got to celebrate a single birthday!
The 30th of February never came around again.
But -- for reasons far too complex for me to comprehend and explain -- there was a February 30th in 1712, at least in Sweden.
Just Google "February 30th" and you'll probably find several explanations about 2/30/1712.

Oh... and let's not forget... there's something extra special (for some) about February 29th.
It's the only day when it's considered perfectly OK for a woman to propose marriage to a man.
Coincidentally, it's also a day that finds many single men mysteriously "out of town" or uncharacteristically "incommunicado."

Anyhow, Happy Birthday to all of you born on February 29th.
I hope it's a wonderful four years.

That's right... there are two winners in the 2008 Dan Miller's Notebook Oscar picking competition.

Hey, it's not easy admitting a double defeat after dominating the "pick the winners" contest for two straight years.
But this year, entertainment reporter Jimmy Carter joined the competition and -- not surprisingly -- he came out on top.

What's humbling (for me) is that my cohort Demetria tied with Jimmy for top spot, each correctly picking 5 of 7 winners.
In previous years I won bragging rights over Demetria, and -- believe me -- she grew weary of hearing me exercise those rights for 12 months.
But this year, to my dismay, I managed to pick only 2 out of 7 winners.
Now I'll have to listen to her remind me of this until my "comeback" next February!

The only 2 categories Jimmy got wrong were Best Supporting Actress (he picked Ruby Dee) and Best Actress (he thought it would be Julie Christie).

It's Oscar picking time again.... and this year there's a new picker on our panel.In fact, Channel 4 entertainment reporter Jimmy Carter is, arguably, the only expert in our little trio. Reviewing movies is part of what he does.

Of course my co-anchor, Demetria Kalodimos, is an occasional producer of documentary movies, so she has legitimate credentials.
I, on the other hand, occasionally go to the movies.... or watch them on cable.
But, keep in mind.... for two years running, I've topped Demetria with correct Oscar picks.

Anyhow, I'm happy to have Jimmy Carter join our gang this year.
Here are the picks from Jimmy, Demetria and me.
We're choosing from seven categories.

BEST PICTURE:
This one is unanimous... no contest... we all pick NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN... a movie that has stirred considerable conversation, analysis and debate.

BEST ACTOR:
Jimmy and Demetria both pick DANIEL DAY-LEWIS
I say it will be TOMMY LEE JONES

BEST ACTRESS:
Jimmy picks JULIE CHRISTIE
Demetria picks MARION COTILLARD
I say those two will split the same supporters, and LAURA LINNEY will win

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR:
Jimmy and Demetria both go with the safe, obvious choice -- JAVIER BARDEM -- for his chilling performance in "No Country For Old Men"
I'll go out on a limb and predict a win for CASEY AFFLECK

BEST DIRECTOR:
Jimmy and Demetria take the - probably correct - choice, THE COEN BROTHERS
I'm taking the gutsy long shot with JASON REITMAN for "Juno"

BEST MUSICAL SCORE:
This is sort of a tie-breaker for us.
Jimmy picks ATONEMENT
Demetria picks KITE RUNNER
I say RATATOUILLE will be honored for its music

A couple of footnotes.
Jimmy says look for the movie SWEENEY TODD: THE DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET to win lots of Oscars, even though it's not nominated for best movie.
He says it will win Oscars for things like costume and art, etc.
He also says the Oscars this year will be low rated, since few people are familiar with all the films.

Demetria says she may be the only person in America who found the movie "Juno" irritatingly 'cartoonish' in both character and dialogue.
Still, she thinks it will probably win for 'screenplay.'

I think that, even though Daniel Day-Lewis was strong in "There Will Be Blood", the academy will honor Tommy Lee Jones for "In The Valley Of Elah", primarily because they think he should have been nominated for his performance in "No Country For Old Men."

A misplaced word in a familiar phrase can, at times, produce amusing results.

I imagine someday my daughter may object to me quoting her little spoken "gems"....
But since she's only 9 years old, and hasn't yet voiced a formal protest, here's one worth repeating.
It gave my wife and me a chuckle.

Last Sunday was a beautiful February day.... a brisk breeze, pleasant temperatures and plenty of sunshine.
Her mother and I held McKensie's hands as the three of us scurried across West End Avenue, headed for lunch.

We were chatting about what a nice day it was.... when McKensie, trying to figure whether the agreeable weather had been predicted, said... and I quote...

"Daddy, I can't remember... did the groundhog see his hole this year?"

First, let me say, I've known Terry Tichenor since I first came to Nashville and Channel 4 in 1969.
He had started working part-time that year, and became a full time technical operator the next year.
In fact, Terry and I are the only two now working at Channel 4 who were here that long ago.

"Where's Terry?" I asked in the studio, just before our newscast began Wednesday evening.
"He called in sick today" someone said.
"Really?" I answered, "That's rare, hope he's OK."

That was on Wednesday.

On Thursday, Terry was back at work.
When he walked into the studio I asked him if everything was OK.
"Yes" he said, "that's the first time I've ever called in sick in 37 years."
"Wow!" several of us exclaimed in unison.

We quickly did a little math in our heads and realized it's actually been close to 39 years he's worked here, and had NEVER taken a sick day.
This would humble even Cal Ripken.

I had to know.... "Was it a tough decision to call in sick after having never missed a day for 39 years?"

"Nope" he said, "I didn't feel good, had a little flu-bug, and a temperature of 101 degrees."

"So how do you feel today?"
"I feel OK... better".. he said, in his understated way.

Out of sheer curiosity, I asked Terry if he'd ever missed school because of sickness when he was a student.
"Yes" he said.... "I missed three days in the first grade with chicken pox."
"How about after first grade?" I asked.

"So, let me get this straight... after missing three days in the first grade, you never again missed a day of school -- or a day of work for 39 years -- because of sickness, until this past Wednesday?"
"That's right" he said.

I had one more question.
"Terry, if you only feel OK today, why didn't you take off maybe one more day to get better?"

His answer, "I couldn't justify it."

Right Terry -- you certainly don't want the bosses to label you as a person who abuses the sick day policy!

I don't really expect anyone can, or should, attempt to explain, literally, where we'd be without rhetorical questions.
But, they are helpful -- as greetings, or to make a point -- even though we don't actually want them answered.

The next time you pass someone in the hallway and say, "How's everything going?"... think about this.
How long would you be standing there if that person decided to really do it..... to really tell you how "everything" is going?
(Actually, that's a rhetorical question as well)

Don't we all agree it would be impossible to raise a child without the use of rhetorical questions?
"How many times am I going to have to tell you to stop slamming that door?"

I can't help but grin when I recall years ago, our former news director Mike Kettenring asked his (then) 3 or 4 year old son Christopher, "How many times do I have to tell you to stop unrolling all the toilet paper from the roll?"
His son sheepishly looked at him and replied, "Three more times." I guess he figured his dad wanted something specific.

By the way, in case you're wondering about that punctuation mark shown next to this essay.... it's called an "interrobang".... combining the exclamation mark and the question mark.
It was introduced by a man named Martin K. Speckler in 1962.

He figured it could be used at the end of those rhetorical exclamation/questions we all utter from time to time, like, "You did WHAT?!"
Or, "Why are you so stupid?!"
Or, "You call that a car?!"
It seems like a pretty good idea to me.

From what I've learned in my brief research, 'interrobang' caught the attention of various publishers when it was first introduced 46 years ago.... but no one expects it to become a regular feature on computer keyboards.
That's too bad, it could be quite useful.
I'd use it here, but it's not offered on my computer font list.
But, what're you gonna do?

I love our sponsors.... they are the lifeblood of the TV business.
Do me a favor.... watch their commercials, and buy their products.
Don't go sneaking around, recording shows with your Tivo or Comcast digital box and then fast forwarding through the commercials.

Think about it.... if too many people skip the commercials, we'll have to go to more drastic measures, like "product placement."

They've been doing it for years in the movies, with studios like Paramount, Disney, MGM and others cleverly placing products and images in various motion pictures.

You think it's just coincidence that there's a Coke or Pepsi in the actor's hand during a scene.... or that he just happens to be driving a Ford or Chevy or Honda or Nissan or Toyota or Kia?
No, those companies compensate 20th Century Fox, Warner Brothers, and all the others in the industry to make their products visible when you, the patron, show up at the Green Hills Cinema or Belcourt to watch a movie.

And it's not just the movies.... TV shows -- including some on NBC -- are doing it more often these days.
Ever notice how when someone is working on a computer in a show, you can always clearly see the logo for Apple or Dell or whatever?
And if the computer screen is shown, Google or Yahoo or AOL is clearly visible.
That, my friend, is product placement.

And do you think quiz shows pay money for all those vacations they give away to DisneyWorld or SeaWorld?
No, the vacations are provided free to the quiz shows by Disney or SeaWorld in exchange for the publicity generated by showing pictures of the vacation destinations.

Same with the Goodyear or Fuji blimps.
It doesn't cost the network any money to have those eyes in the sky over sporting events.
Goodyear and Fuji and other blimps are thrilled to fly over and get all that free advertising and exposure.

If viewers start skipping commercials in our newscasts, I can envision the day when -- right as I'm reading a big story -- the Watson's girl might be seen in the background sitting on the edge of a hot tub.

Or perhaps -- during wide shots -- Bruce Sprintz will just happen to walk across our studio and take a seat on a couch that still has a big price tag on it.
There could be Kroger shopping bags placed around the weather center.... and we could have giant mugs of Starbuck's coffee on the news desk.
And the reporters in the field could be wearing Nike caps.
And, who knows, you might even spot Lee Beaman or Reed Trickett driving around in the news cruisers with our photographers.

And I can imagine the backdrop of our news set featuring a giant city image, with the AT&T tower and LP Field prominent in the background.

You know what? The day could come when we point out that Demetria gets clothes from The French Shoppe. (Oh, wait, we already do that)

And by the way -- if you're counting -- I just slipped 41 "product mentions" into this essay.
See how easy it is.

______________________________________

***Footnote: For those of you far away from Nashville, Bruce Sprintz, Lee Beaman & Reed Trickett are big advertisers on WSMV, and Demetria (Kalodimos) is my co-anchor on our newscasts.
(And I just slipped in a few more product mentions right there)

When I was a young boy, my neighborhood pals called me Pie.
Don’t ask me why…. I don’t recall the genesis of the nickname.

These days, if somebody calls me “Pie,” I quickly know they hail from my old Georgia neighborhood… and their numbers are down to a precious few.

With such a nickname, it seems appropriate that, from time to time, I should make a pie.

Over the Super Bowl weekend, I decided to concoct a flavor I’ve never done before.
Actually, I’ve made only three varieties of pies in the past…. all variations of lemon, lime or banana… with a dubious track record of success.
This time I decided to try an ameretto pie.

I prepared it Saturday night, and put it in the refrigerator to firm up so that we could enjoy it on Super Bowl Sunday.
I was eager to know what my wife and daughter would think of this new pie creation.
As you know, feedback is the only worthwhile gauge for a pie maker.

Of course I was hoping for a reaction like, “Wow, that’s really good!”… or, in my wildest dreams, “That’s easily the best pie I’ve ever eaten.”
But, Sunday afternoon, the moment of truth only confirmed what I had secretly feared.

I had put too much condensed milk (2 cans) and too much ameretto (12 tablespoons) into the pie.
After one small bite, my daughter wouldn’t eat any more.
When I asked her what she thought of it, she said, “Well, it burns, but the cream on top was pretty good.”
OK, so she likes Cool Whip.

My last hope for favorable validation would have to come from my wife Karen.
She ate an entire slice.
“What do you think?” I asked.

She thought for a few seconds and said, “It’s not terrible.”
Then she lapsed into a one hour sugar coma next to the fireplace on the living room floor.

Honestly, the reviews were a little harsher than I had hoped for.

I figured maybe I’d get a “I’ve had worse”… which is a familiar and comfortable response.
On the other hand, “It’s not terrible” could mean lots of things.
It could -- in a real stretch -- mean it’s pretty good… but, more likely, it would indicate it’s just barely this side of "uneatable."

So I let a day pass.

On Monday night I asked Karen, "Can I just assume you don't like my pie?"
Her answer surprised me, "I almost like it... but I'm afraid of it."

Yikes, she's AFRAID of it!
I've had many comments, good and bad, on my pies in the past... but this was a first.
Never before has one of my pies actually frightened someone.

So… it’s back to the drawing board… and I’ll try again.
Next week I hope to score a "Not too bad"... which, in the world of Pie's pies, would be a giant leap forward.

You know, I’m beginning to think Chicken Little may have been ahead of his time.

You’ve probably heard about a 7,000 pound science satellite that's falling from the sky this week.
By the time you're reading this, it will likely have already dropped and disintegrated.
Most of the pieces will burn up as they enter the atmosphere, but any parts that don’t disintegrate could come down anywhere along a belt stretching from Orlando, Florida to Brisbane, Australia.
That would include such high population spots as Miami, Mexico City and Bangkok.

While reading about that falling satellite, I saw a story about another one… a large U.S. spy satellite… that’ll be falling to Earth late this month or early March.
It’s fully expected that a few pieces of this one will survive reentry and hit the ground, possibly in North America.

Since it’s a spy satellite, there’s even mild concern that “sensitive” information could come down with satellite parts.

It all got me thinking…. just how many objects are there circling our planet that will, eventually, have to come down.... "space junk" as they call it?

Quick visits to several space-related websites provided some answers.
As of 2000, there were roughly 8,927 manmade objects circling overhead.
About 2,671 of those objects were actual satellites.
And those are just the big things.

When you factor in nuts and bolts and gloves and other little things floating around, there are estimated to be 110,000 objects larger than 1 centimeter.
And some estimates are much, much higher than that.

Look at the three images next to this essay, taken from one of NASA's websites.
The first illustrates the concentration of objects orbiting within 2,000 km of the earth's surface.

The second is an illustration of objects orbiting around a 35,785 km altitude.

The third image illustrates those same orbiting objects from a vantage point directly above the north pole.

You know, it's slightly reminiscent of the rings around Saturn.
Hmmmm.. maybe this could provide elusive answers about the origin of those Saturn rings.
What if -- eons ago -- a civilization of Saturnians overloaded their planet with so much space debris that it resulted in the mysterious rings?
And then, what if so much debris started falling to the surface of Saturn that it ultimately wiped out the Saturnians?

Naaaaaa
It's time for me to rest.
But perhaps I'll wear a football helmet outside tomorrow.

Walking the halls here at Channel 4, I always spot something that stirs up recollections of the history of this place.

When I first came here in 1969, this building on Knob Hill was home to WSM Radio, both AM and FM, as well as the TV station.
Various renovation projects over the years have changed much of the building... but there are plenty of little spots that remain basically the same.

For example, this photo shows the end of an upstairs hallway, near one of the rear entrances.
I recall walking through that door nearly 39 years ago.... standing there in that hallway, and looking through that same window into -- what was then -- WSM Radio’s Studio “A”.

On the other side of the glass, I saw the legendary Tex Ritter sitting with Ralph Emery, doing their late night radio show.
In the months that followed, while working the late shift, I probably spent too much time at night peering into that studio and listening to Ralph and his impressive guests.

Marty Robbins would show up on many nights, playing piano and chatting with Ralph and folks who’d call in.
On any given night, I might see Charley Pride, Tom T. Hall, George Morgan, Charlie Louvin, Jan Howard, Bill Anderson, Jim Ed Brown, Kitty Wells or any of a long list of country and Opry stars who’d drop by the chat and have their records played.

If you look very closely at that photo.... inside the window you can see meteorologist Lisa Spencer's face, peering out over the top of a shelf.
That's right.... the old radio studio is now our TV weather office where Lisa and our other meteorologists hang out and prepare their daily TV weathercasts.
I often wonder if they have any idea about the history of that room.
It was also Bill Hall’s office prior to his retirement.

In this next photo -- probably made in the late 1970's -- you get a rare glimpse of how the other side of that window used to look when it was WSM-AM's main studio.
That’s Al Voecks sitting behind the desk, with Tom Bryant on the right, during a broadcast of “All That’s News.”

That’s exactly the spot Ralph Emery and Tex Ritter would sit doing their late night show.
It's also the place Hal Durham, Pat Sajak, Charlie Chase, Grant Turner, Hairl Hensley, Keith Bilbrey, Tony Lyons and other familiar names would sit while doing their radio shows in the 70s.

These days, truthfully, I never stand in that hallway anymore, watching Lisa or Dan Thomas prepare their weather reports....
Of course, if they'd move that big, obtrusive yellow shelf, maybe I would.

Anyhow, there are lots of memories, and plenty of history, in this old building.
I’ll dig up more for you another time.